


We Might As Well Be Playing With Lightning

by birdsons



Category: Kasabian
Genre: Kissing, M/M, lots of feelings, nothing else really just kissing and feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:45:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsons/pseuds/birdsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They’re breaking all the rules they have ever made when Serge closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Tom’s shoulders and just holds him close, breathing in his best friend’s scent, and he knows it so very well but still he cannot bring himself to care. Everything becomes so strangely calm and peaceful despite the pouring rain slamming against the windows. In the back of his mind he knows that this shouldn’t feel this good and right but it just does and so he ignores that little voice saying that fuck, he’s kissing his best mate, mostly because it has been too long, way too long and he has always wanted this, craved this for too long [...]"</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Might As Well Be Playing With Lightning

**Author's Note:**

> alright so here goes my first ever tomerge fanfic pls dont hurt me im just a small trash boy thats a bit too obsessed with these two. its really short too so yeah. anyways enjoy??

It’s raining when they kiss for the first time (not if you count all the stolen kisses during the Kasabian shows but it’s the first time they kiss when nobody else is around to see them). The sky is dark and every now and then a lightning flashes across the sky followed by the crash of thunder, lightning up the whole room. Neither Serge or Tom care, though. 

They’re both soaked to the skin when they reach Serge’s flat. Serge’s breathing is fast and shallow and his heart is hammering in his chest and if it wasn’t for the loud sound of thunder Serge is certain that Tom would be able to hear it. There’s also a buzzing in his head, maybe from all the alcohol he’s consumed in the past few hours or maybe it’s from being so close to Tom for the first time in a long time, he’s not exactly sure.

They’re breaking all the rules they have ever made when Serge closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Tom’s shoulders and just holds him close, breathing in his best friend’s scent, and he knows it so very well but still he cannot bring himself to care. Everything becomes so strangely calm and peaceful despite the pouring rain slamming against the windows.   
In the back of his mind he knows that this shouldn’t feel this good and right but it just does and so he ignores that little voice saying that fuck, he’s kissing his best mate, mostly because it has been too long, way too long and he has always wanted this, craved this for too long and now – now it’s finally happening and it’s so wonderful and Serge looks into Tom’s eyes and he just looks so damn sincere and so open and Serge realizes that even though he’s fairly good with words and wrote quite a lot of songs about Tom, this particular moment can never be put into words, there’s just no way he could ever describe it no matter how hard he’d try.

Slowly he closes his eyes and cups Tom’s neck with his hands. His head feels so light and so does his body and Serge holds onto Tom even tighter because he’s afraid that if he doesn’t he might actually drift away or disappear. He needs to make sure that this is real, that this is really happening. That it’s not one of his dreams from which he often awakens hard and covered in sweat and feeling like his heart is trying to escape his chest. More often than not the dreams also bring some kind of self-loathing and a feeling of loneliness he can’t quite shake off. 

Tom smiles against his lips, his breath so warm and soft and then it just happens. He isn’t sure who’s the first to lean in, maybe it’s Serge or Tom or maybe they do it both at the same time but it doesn’t really matter anymore because then their lips are pressed together and Serge feels like everything has finally fallen into place, and the buzzing in his head only intensifies and his whole body feels like it’s on fire, and Tom tastes like rain and cigarettes and alcohol and it’s just so Tom and Serge sighs softly into the kiss and presses himself harder against his best friend – or lover, perhaps, he isn’t so sure anymore as to who they are to each other. He doesn’t want to assume anything but at the same time he hopes that it’s not just some drunken accident that Tom will only want to forget about; he knows that he would never be able to do that.

They kiss and it feels like lightning and electricity and fire and everything else. It feels like coming home after touring for a whole year, it feels like finding what you’ve been looking for your whole life, it’s like finally finding that place where you belong. And even though he is scared, he also realizes that the pain in his chest that’s always been there whenever he would look at Tom has changed and now even though it still hurts, it’s in the most wonderful way imaginable. It feels as if his heart is going to burst with all the love he feels and set itself on fire. And Serge thinks that hell, he’s always been good with words and putting all of his feelings and thoughts into songs but there’s just something about being so close to Tom, something about how his lips feel against his own, how his scent is extremely intoxicating and Serge just cannot get enough of it all, and he probably should be at least slightly worried about the fact that he kissed a hell lot of people in his life but it’s never been this intense and incredible, but at the same time it’s not surprising at all because it’s Tom, and when he slips his tongue into Serge’s mouth he can’t help but let out a small moan and just like that his sanity is completely gone, leaving him desperate and making him press closer and closer and just closer to Tom and he doesn’t think that he will ever get enough of this, of Tom, and it’s dangerous but then again Serge has always been one for those kinds of things. Besides, he thinks, as long as Tom is with him they will be all right. They always are.


End file.
